


refuse to tear it up

by quackingfish



Series: old wounds | new teeth [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28731711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quackingfish/pseuds/quackingfish
Summary: “I’m not asking you to slack off.” Derek tipped his head up, and caught Stiles in a kiss, languid and comfortable. “I’m asking you to take a break, to not work yourself to death.”Stiles sighed and rested his forehead against Derek’s, eyes closed. “I don’t know if I know how.” He confessed, voice gentle, delicate in the small room, the smaller space of the shower.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: old wounds | new teeth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106210
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94





	refuse to tear it up

**Author's Note:**

> this fic sprung out of nowhere in my head during a walk in the later, most sleep deprived parts of Nanowrimo, and then when I finally sat down to write it in late December it ran away with me like i was in some kind of mad fugue state
> 
> you probably don't have to have read the previous fic to understand this, since it's literally just domestic fluff and porn
> 
> title from bloodstains by 100 gecs for uh, some reason???

Derek ran his hands through Stiles’ hair one last time and met his eyes in the mirror. Stiles smiled back at him, heavy bags under his eyes that Derek hoped he would be able to do something about before Stiles had to go back to college.

“You sure about this?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles hummed and nodded, passing the clippers back to Derek.

“Yeah. I like it long, but it’s, I don’t know, getting in the way.” Stiles sighed, his back pressing against Derek’s chest. Derek bit his tongue, remembering how Lydia had looked when she’d told him how she’d caught Stiles absentmindedly pulling his hair out while curled over his laptop during finals week.

“Okay.” Derek said, watching the way Stiles’ eyes closed. He waited until Stiles squinted back at him and tapped at his elbow as if to spur him on, and then he flicked the clippers on, and got to work.

Hair fell all over the place, tickling down Stiles’ bare back, but Derek just kept going, running his hand over Stiles’ head to check if his work was turning out even, tilting his head forwards to get a better angle at the back of his head, his neck. He wanted to kiss Stiles there, so he did, fighting down a sneeze at the tickle of loose hair.

Stiles laughed, careful to keep still, his fingers tapping against the edge of the sink. “Come on, I wanna have time to check if the Santa Barbara pack have finally made a move.”

“They won’t until after the new year, we have time.”

Stiles made an equivocating noise, and luckily, Derek anticipated the tilt of his head and easily avoided slicing into his ear. “Yeah, but the Fresno pack’s still being too active, too nosy, so we need an edge.”

Derek flipped the switch on the clippers and set them down, running his hands down Stiles’ sides. “Come on, shower. You don’t think we already have an edge?”

Stiles snorted, tugging off his boxers and stepping into the shower, turning on the water before responding. “Sure, we’re good, but they’re established and terrifying. And they’re nervous, which means they’re dangerous.”

Derek swept up some of the fallen hair with his hands, before resigning himself to having to vacuum. Then what Stiles had said sunk in. “No, that means _we’re_ dangerous.”

Stiles laughed and audibly fumbled with the shampoo bottle, but Derek had finally grown used to the clatter and chaos of having Stiles around, so he didn’t react. “Sure.”

Derek sighed and stripped off his own clothes, dropping them on top of the pile of Stiles’. “Move over.” He said, and then stepped into the shower, unable to help but smile at Stiles, wet and slick and covered in suds.

“We’re dangerous.” He repeated, resting a hand on Stiles’ hip and pressing close. “In part because of who you are and how well you’re doing, and the same for everyone else. They don’t see it as a weakness, as what it _was_ , that you all went off to different colleges, that half of you are six hours away a lot of the time.”

Stiles hummed, scrubbing his hands over his newly shorn head, tipping back to be more fully under the spray.

“They think we were horrifically confident for a brand new pack, that we were scouting for territory, and now we’ve decided what we’re taking first. Add that to whatever they’ve heard about a kanima, about hunters, about a vrykolakas, and, well.” Derek shrugged, guiding Stiles out of the way so he could rinse off himself.

“Which we _really_ aren’t, holy fuck.” Stiles laughed, trailing his hands down Derek’s chest.

“So,” Derek said, reaching behind himself to shut off the water and then pulling Stiles closer. “We’ll be fine, and they’ll wait for us to make a move, and we won’t.” He paused, and then smirked. “At least not for a few more years.”

Stiles punched him, and Derek grinned, pressing it into Stiles’ neck. “We’re not making any territory moves, fuck off.”

Derek only grinned harder.

“Besides,” Stiles continued, sighing and letting his hand come to rest at the small of Derek’s back. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be ready, that I can slack off.”

“I’m not asking you to slack off.” Derek tipped his head up, and caught Stiles in a kiss, languid and comfortable. “I’m asking you to take a break, to not work yourself to death.”

Stiles sighed and rested his forehead against Derek’s, eyes closed. “I don’t know if I know how.” He confessed, voice gentle, delicate in the small room, the smaller space of the shower.

Derek let the moment hang, and then decided to pull the trigger on something he’d been turning over and over in his head for months. “I’ll join you in LA next semester.”

Stiles frowned. “Okay, but what about Scott-”

“He’s fine. And so is Allison, and Boyd. Those three combined need the least babysitting out of you all.”

Stiles laughed at that, eyes bright when he looked at Derek. “You just don’t want to walk in on Scott and Allison fucking again.”

“That might be a factor.” Derek conceded with a smile, reaching out to tug back the shower curtain.

Stiles grinned at him, and stepped out of the shower, draping a towel around himself and opening the bathroom door. “Sure. Can we- details later, I wanna-”

“Stiles.” Derek said, dropping his voice low to get Stiles’ attention. “This whole conversation was about getting you to relax.”

“Yeah, well.” Stiles shrugged, running the towel and then his hands over his newly short hair. “Old dog, new tricks, you know?”

Derek flashed a little bit of fang at him, just to make him react. Stiles straightened, pausing midway through drying his stomach.

Derek tilted his head, considering, flicking his gaze up and down Stiles’ body.

“Oh no, that’s your thinking face, come _on_ , that dog joke wasn’t even about you!” Stiles whined, movements as expressive as ever.

“How about,” Derek stalked forwards, slow and certain, slotting his hand in place at the join of Stiles’ neck and shoulder. “I make you relax.”

Stiles’ breath caught, and Derek delighted himself with the shift in Stiles’ heartbeat, the way his eyes were locked on Derek’s.

“You can go downstairs and do whatever work it was, or.” Derek smiled, stepping further into Stiles’ space and letting his lips brush against Stiles’ cheek. “ _Or_.”

He felt Stiles shiver, and then heard the towel drop to the floor, and Derek hummed, turning his head to kiss Stiles, light, still smiling.

“Okay.” Stiles breathed, and then, pulling back so Derek could see the exaggerated eyebrow wiggle, added in a completely different tone, “You gonna make it worth my while?”

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes, but then he gripped Stiles’ hips and hefted him upwards, grinning when Stiles squeaked and automatically wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist.

“How about you save the performance review for afterwards?”

Stiles tipped his head back with a laugh, and Derek took advantage of the movement, trailing his mouth along Stiles’ neck before biting down, careful, gentle, but hard enough to make Stiles yelp, moan, and squirm.

“Okay.” Derek said into the skin of Stiles’ neck, carrying him towards his bed. He tipped them down into the messy sheets, breathing Stiles in and letting their hips grind together for a moment, before tightening his hold on the situation. “Stay there.”

Stiles blinked up at him, eyes narrowing, his hand drifting to his own cock the second Derek pulled away. “What are you planning? You know you suck at plans.”

Derek rolled his eyes and rifled through his closet. “I can call Scott and get him to sign off on this, if you want.”

“Oh fuck, god no,” Stiles wheezed, and Derek hid a smile. Stiles let out a startled little laugh when Derek turned around and he saw what Derek had in his hands. “Please tell me that isn’t what you use on full moons.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “No.” He climbed back onto the bed, setting down the thin leather cuffs and unpicking the knot in the strip of fabric he was planning on using as a blindfold.

He pressed a kiss to Stiles’ mouth, letting it get heated, sloppy, before pulling back and gesturing with the blindfold. “Okay?” He asked, and Stiles nodded, eyes half-lidded, mouth slick and red.

Curling his hand around the back of Stiles’ neck, he leaned down and tied the blindfold around him, carefully working the knot so that it would lay flat and out of the way. Derek tugged at the edge of the fabric, adjusting how it sat on Stiles’ face, pressing his knee against Stiles’ side.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Stiles’ answer was satisfyingly breathy, though it quickly morphed into one of those grins that meant he had some smartass comment brewing. Derek cut it off with a kiss, biting down on Stiles’ lip and tracing his hand down his chest, catching Stiles’ wrist where his hand was loosely gripping his own cock.

He used his grip on Stiles’ wrist to tug his arm up and over his head, slotting a knee between Stiles’ legs to keep himself balanced. Stiles made a small noise, and Derek smiled, picking up one of the cuffs and looping it around Stiles, scowling at it when the buckle refused to work as smoothly as he’d’ve liked.

Stiles couldn’t see that, though, so he just let out shuddery breath after shuddery breath, hitching and arching against the sheets when Derek reached for his left arm, placing it above Stiles’ head with the other one and attaching the second cuff. There wasn’t anything he could attach them to, unfortunately, so he just clipped them to each other and pressed Stiles’ wrists down into the mattress.

“Keep those there.” He said, tracing a thumb along the delicate skin of Stiles’ inner wrist. When Stiles nodded, Derek let go and shifted to settle himself properly between Stiles’ thighs, kneeling so he didn’t have to prop himself up and could have both hands free to glide over all that soft skin.

One day, he’d take his time like this, spend an hour doling out gentle touches and soaking in the soft sturdiness of Stiles’ body, but this was about keeping his attention, about keeping him focused and then making him lose his mind.

He gripped Stiles’ hips, running a thumb over one of his hip bones. Stiles had lost some weight since going back to college, and Derek shook his head before he could get distracted by that, before he could change his mind and make Stiles eat a plate of lasagne instead.

Instead, Derek shifted his grip to spread Stiles’ legs further, hitching them up and then drawing his nails down his inner thighs, gentle, just enough to distract him so that he jumped when Derek bent down and dragged his tongue over a nipple.

Stiles whined, so Derek did it again, letting his nails bite in harder this time, grazing his teeth over his nipple but not biting down. Derek smiled into his chest, taking the moment to plan, to consider his next move. He could take his time with it, work Stiles up with teasing touches and barely there kisses, or.

Or he could slip quickly down Stiles’ body, past the curve of his stomach to press his mouth open and sloppy to the side of Stiles’ cock. Stiles let out another bitten off noise, and Derek could feel himself growing smug already.

Derek liked sucking dick, didn’t get to do enough of it. Most of that was just the reality of the last semester, combined with the desperation of each time they’d managed to steal a weekend together, but another part of it was that Derek didn’t usually get to sprawl Stiles out like this and take what he wanted.

So, he did just that. He mouthed his way up Stiles’ cock, loose and wet, tightening his grip on Stiles’ hips when they twitched.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles panted, as Derek licked around the head, catching it with his lips and working it properly into his mouth. He didn’t slide all the way down, just sucked gently at the tip, keeping the pressure of his tongue soft and gentle.

He took his time with the weight of it, bobbing his head slightly, slow, refusing to be hurried by Stiles’ little pleading sounds. After a moment, though, he shifted one of his hands off of Stiles’ hips to grip the base of his cock, steadying him, and Derek slid down, mouth loose but for the press of his tongue.

Derek glanced upwards, taking in the flush painting Stiles’ chest, his neck, his arms, straining above his head. He hummed around Stiles’ cock, flicking his tongue and sliding almost all the way off, drawing in a breath and then plunging down, letting the weight, the thickness of him consume all his focus.

He fucking loved sucking cock.

Derek bobbed his head, gripping the base of his dick tighter, holding Stiles steady as he swallowed his way down, having to remind himself to keep it slow. He had to pull off to breathe and to swallow, once or twice, but that meant he had a chance to glance up at Stiles’ slack, open mouth, and then he could dive back down, fill his mouth once again.

After a while, though, he pulled off properly, letting go of Stiles’ cock and giving it one last lick, sloppy and pleased with himself.

“Oh god, Derek.” Stiles whined, breathy, lifting his head as if to look down at him.

Derek slid back up his body, steadying him with a hand on his jaw and tracing the edge of the blindfold with his other hand, smiling when Stiles leaned into the touch.

“When I-” Stiles panted, steadying his breathing even as Derek pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “When I imagined us getting kinky, I always thought it’d be more, you know, _grr_ ,” Derek glanced up to see that Stiles had made claws with his hands, the little chain joining his arms clicking when he moved. “And less thorough blowjobs. Not that I’m complaining!” He added, head twitching, looking concerned.

“Would you prefer that?” Derek rumbled, allowing himself to smile when he felt Stiles shiver.

“Fuck, I don’t know-” Stiles started, but Derek cut him off.

“Because I _was_ planning on fucking you, but plans can be changed.”

Stiles arched under him, and Derek slid a hand up one of his arms, wrapping around the cuff and pressing down. “No, no, that’s a good plan.” Stiles rushed, straining up against Derek’s grip and letting out a tiny whine when he met firm resistance.

“Yeah?” Derek asked, his grin audible in his voice.

“ _Fuck_.” Stiles wriggled, his voice catching when Derek trailed a hand back to his nipples, flicking at one. “Yeah, god, yeah.”

“Well, if you say so.” Derek rose from the bed, and Stiles mock snarled at him, shifting his shoulders.

“You better just be getting up to grab lube.”

Derek had been, in fact, just getting up to find the lube, but he turned a considering eye back to Stiles, naked and not quite able to keep still. He picked up the bottle and climbed back onto the bed, kneeling over Stiles and cupping a hand around the side of his neck.

“Sorry, who’s running this show?” He tilted his head, tracing his thumb down Stiles’ windpipe and watching the way he shuddered, listening to the way his heartbeat lurched.

Stiles arched his neck, pressing into Derek’s touch, and that was something he’d have to consider later, the way he responded to a hand around his throat, almost like he was looking for pressure.

“You.” Stiles let the tension out of his body, fingers loosening where they had been curled into fists, his legs falling even further open.

Unable to help himself, Derek ducked down for a kiss, keeping it sweet even with Stiles sloppy and worked up. “Tell me to stop if you need to.” He murmured into Stiles’ ear, and then, at his nod, settled himself between Stiles’ long, spread legs.

He took his time with it, hitching one of Stiles’ legs higher up with his left hand while the other traced his balls, the soft, delicate skin of his innermost thigh, dipping towards his hole but not quite getting there, not yet.

Derek watched Stiles’ face, missing the ability to see his eyes, to judge how he was doing by where he was looking, but considered it a worthwhile tradeoff for the way the blindfold had worked Stiles up so fast, keeping him breathy and on the back foot.

Stiles shifted his hips, chasing Derek’s touch, and Derek chuckled and finally let his thumb press firmly against his hole. He whined and somehow opened his legs even more, and Derek shifted his grip on Stiles’ thigh, keeping his leg bent up and out of the way as he pulled his other hand away.

Stiles let out a shaky breath, and Derek fumbled with the lube, struggling to open it one handed. And there was another benefit of Stiles not being able to see- he couldn’t see Derek struggling with the bottle, so he gasped a little in surprise when Derek finally managed to press a now slick finger against him, coaxing the tip inside him.

Derek slid his finger further in, watching as Stiles sighed and relaxed into it, a gentle satisfaction, like stepping into a cool shower after a long, hot day. He took his time with it, slowly gliding in and out, gaze flicking between Stiles’ face and where he was opening up for Derek.

He could see the exact moment that Stiles’ attention slipped, so he pulled out just enough to coax another finger inside him, tipping himself forwards so that he could press a kiss and then a bite to Stiles’ chest, letting his weight press down on him.

Stiles shuddered, so he bit down harder, sucking a mark into his skin and rocking his fingers back and forth, digging his nails into Stiles’ thigh when he tried to chase the feeling with his hips.

“Steady.” Derek murmured against newly purpling skin. He felt a lick of satisfaction when he leaned back and took in the state of Stiles, so he ducked right back down again and sucked another mark onto him, high on his chest, not far from his nipple.

Stiles moaned, the sound halfway to a whine, and Derek let him feel his teeth, working his fingers into him a little more thoroughly and soaking up the hitches in Stiles’ breath.

Derek sat back up so that he could have better coordination and a better angle to tease Stiles with a third finger, humming happily when it slipped in without much effort. It hadn’t been that long since they’d last fucked, really, and even with that aside, Stiles had taken to sending Derek pictures of him cramming fingers inside himself at strange times of day and night. At least he gave Derek a heads up, after a particularly close incident while Derek had been at a grocery store.

Stiles arched his back against the sheets, and Derek dragged his focus back to where it should be, taking in the way his arms were straining against the cuffs. “I should get something to tie you up to, next time.” He mused, spreading and curling his fingers inside Stiles at the same time so that he gasped and writhed.

“Fuck yeah.” Stiles nodded, chest heaving with each breath.

Derek grinned and shifted his weight, letting his fingers slide out of Stiles. He finally let go of his thigh, this time allowing himself both hands to deal with the lube, pouring some out on his hand and then tossing the bottle away. He eyed the box of condoms, and then decided against it; they didn’t always use one, but it did make cleanup easier when they did. But tonight, Derek was planning on making a total mess of Stiles, so.

So he slicked up his cock, wiped his hand on the sheet, and gripped Stiles’ hips, tipping them up and guiding the head of his cock against his hole, and then hesitated.

“What’re you fucking waiting for?” Stiles slurred, twitching against Derek’s firm grip on him. Derek grinned, and then thrust in, keeping his eyes locked on Stiles’ face and not bothering to be particularly slow or gentle.

Stiles’ back _bowed_ , almost rising off the sheets, his hands clenched tight around the links joining them together. “Ohfuck,” He babbled, and Derek laughed soundlessly, drawing back and thrusting in again.

Stiles kept making noise, whines and gasps and moans, and Derek drove into him relentlessly, keeping him still, Stiles’ body half in the air, shoulders pressing heavy into the mattress.

Derek didn’t let himself get lost in how _good_ Stiles felt around him, how worked up he was himself, just fucked into him hard, putting his strength to good use. Stiles’ breathing was a hitching, juddery thing, and he was taking it so well, so easily, red and gasping and marked up by Derek’s mouth and fingers.

He shifted his grip on Stiles’ hips, tugging him back to meet each of Derek’s thrusts, and _that_ was the sound of Stiles damn near losing his mind, head thrown back, cock dripping all over the place, and when Derek tilted his head, he could make out what Stiles was saying. Saying was too fine a word for it, really, since it was just him gasping out Derek’s name and a rotating array of expletives, syllables rolling into each other like he wasn’t even aware of what was coming out of his mouth.

Derek groaned and let his head tip forwards, his rhythm stuttering as he watched Stiles take his cock, stretched wide around him.

Feeling like he was losing his mind too, Derek pulled out, breath catching at the broken, desperate sound Stiles made.

“Fuck, no- Derek, come on,” Stiles gasped, straining towards him, as if by arching his back enough he could get Derek back inside him.

Derek tipped himself over, landing flat on his back and using his grip on Stiles to lift him up and bring him with, settling him on Derek’s lap. On a whim, he brought a hand up to undo the blindfold, desperate to see Stiles’ eyes, drinking in the wild, dazed look in them.

Before Stiles could start begging, Derek lined himself up and slipped back in, lifting Stiles up and guiding him back down. Stiles’ joined arms hung loose in front of him, and his head tipped to one side, eyelids fluttering as he looked down at Derek.

“Ohgod,” Stiles panted, legs straining to lift himself up, but not quite able to summon the strength. That alone made Derek’s breath catch, his cock twitch inside Stiles; Stiles loved riding Derek’s cock, driving himself down onto him for what seemed like hours. That he was too fucked out to summon the strength to do so was seriously something to marvel at.

So Derek put his muscles to use, gripping Stiles tight and moving him up and down on his dick, fucking up into him at the same time. Stiles gasped and shuddered through it, going limp and letting Derek move his body how he wanted, how they _both_ wanted, fast and desperate and perfect.

“God, _look_ at you,” Derek didn’t even know what he was saying, just that it felt as necessary as the way Stiles clenched around him. Stiles whined and tipped his head back, his cock jolting, flushed an angry dark red. “Take it so well for me, don’t you?”

“Oh god, _please_.” Stiles gasped, breaking off into a moan. This time, he could see the way Derek grinned, smug and wolfish, and he visibly shuddered, arms tightening. “Let me, please, _Derek_ -”

Derek hummed, as if he was considering, as if he might not know what Stiles was asking for, even as his thrusts picked up in speed. “Go on.” His voice betrayed how wrecked he was, and Stiles groaned. “Touch yourself. Make yourself come.”

He watched as Stiles wrapped a hand around his cock, his body at first sagging with relief, and then tightening as he started stroking himself. Derek let his nails bite into Stiles’ hips, slamming him down into his lap, onto his cock, splitting him open and making Stiles’ shoulders shudder, his grip tighten.

He was close himself, so he urged Stiles on, driving into him with a reckless force. “Come on, Stiles. Come for me.”

And Stiles did, wide-eyed and looking almost shocked, shaking apart even as Derek kept slamming him down onto his cock. Come streaked Derek’s chest, dripping down Stiles’ hand, and the noise he made was nothing short of broken, wrecked, like it just fell right out of him, like he was so full up of pleasure that the sounds just kept spilling out.

Derek hesitated for a second, but Stiles just blinked at him, murmured a quiet “Come on”, so he didn’t stop fucking him, letting go of every last scrap of control he’d been clinging to. Stiles tipped forwards on the next thrust, arms folded between their chests, pressing his slick mouth into the crook of Derek’s neck.

Derek moaned, halfway to a sigh, dragging Stiles down to press against his chest and tilting his head to the side so Stiles could get better access to his neck. He could feel Stiles’ smile against his skin, and then Stiles was biting down, dragging at the skin with his teeth as he clenched around Derek’s cock, and that was it. Derek tugged him down onto himself one last time and came with a sound he didn’t recognise, fingers digging into Stiles’ hips as he held him close.

They panted together for several long moments, both struggling to catch their breaths, Stiles pressing gentle kisses to Derek’s neck.

“Holy fuck,” Stiles breathed, half laughing. “I am so glad you’re a werewolf.”

Derek laughed along with him, cock slipping out of Stiles, and then, as if he couldn’t help himself, his fingers found where he was stretched open and wet, teasing at Stiles’ rim. Stiles hummed and shifted into it a little, nuzzling into Derek’s neck.

“You did a number on me, huh?” Stiles murmured, as Derek dipped a fingertip inside him. Derek hummed in agreement, sliding his other hand up Stiles’ back, tracing his spine, his ribs.

Stiles lifted his head up, looking at Derek with a half curious, half mischievous expression. “You wanna clean up the mess you made?” He asked, a smile growing across his face. Derek’s breath hitched, and Stiles broke out into a grin, pushing himself upwards on shaky arms and slipping off to lie facedown on the mattress.

Derek felt like he was having an out of body experience as he dragged himself down to settle once more between Stiles’ thighs, watching as he arched his back, tipping his ass up. He let out a desperate groan, bending down and spreading Stiles open, thumbing at his hole, slick with lube.

Without letting himself think, Derek ducked down and licked at him, _into_ him, picking out the taste of skin and sex underneath the artificalness of the lube. And, god, as he drove his tongue deeper, there was come, his own, sticky on his tongue.

Stiles hummed and arched into it, and Derek hooked both his thumbs into him, spreading Stiles open and tracing his stretched out rim with his tongue. Some come dripped out of him, and Derek groaned at the sight, unable to stop himself from licking it up, from working his tongue deep into Stiles’ body.

“God.” Stiles mumbled into the pillow, and Derek couldn’t help but agree, slowly working his mouth against where Stiles was stretched open and wide.

He pulled back and slipped two fingers into him, watching with half-lidded eyes as Stiles took them easily, so fucking easily. Derek let out a shuddery breath, and then pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the sheets before dropping his body down on top of Stiles’, covering him completely, hands finding Stiles’ own.

He unhooked the cuffs from each other, dipping a fingertip under the edge of one of them.

“God fuckin damn.” Stiles slurred, turning his head to squint at Derek. Derek nodded, his eyes sliding closed as he shifted them to lie on their sides, hands still wrapped delicately around Stiles’ wrists, keeping him close.

Stiles was still, as loose and relaxed as Derek had ever seen him. Derek pressed a kiss against his nape, unable to do anything besides lie there and listen to Stiles’ heartbeat as it slowed back to a normal rhythm. He’d move in a minute, get them cleaned up and ready for sleep, but until then, Derek let himself lose everything to the steady movement of Stiles’ breathing against his chest.


End file.
